You deserve so much more.
But the moment from before was gone. The vulnerable young lady he’d caught a glimpse of was once more tucked away beneath the prim and proper prig persona that he knew now was mostly an act.
So instead, he stood there. Frozen. His hands on her arms as his mind raced to figure out what was going on here and what to make of this pull his felt, and the answering tug of fear that said to walk away.
His entire being torn between pulling her close and pushing her away.
He never did get to decide.
Her aunt made the decision for him.
“Here she is,” she announced loudly as she threw open the doors. She stopped short at the sight of them alone, standing so close it was nearly an embrace, his hands on her arms…
He dropped them just as her gaze fell to take in the odd proximity.
“What is going on here?” she hissed, but her fierce glare faded, replaced by something more frightening. Something he’d never once seen before.
A smile.
It looked foreign and painful, and it frightened him more than her scowls and glares ever could. “Ah, Lord Damian,” she said, her voice scratchy as if it was resisting this sweet tone.
He glanced at Pru who looked equally confused...and terrified.
“I was just telling our guests about you.” She stepped aside, revealing an audience who’d no doubt seen their closeness, not to mention the fact that they were alone.
He swallowed down a protective urge to shove Prudence behind him, away from the scrutiny of her aunt and these two gentlemen he did not recognize.
“Allow me to introduce you to Sir William and his nephew, Mr. Benedict.”
The names took a moment to register and as he went through the proper motions, he saw the change in Prudence. He couldn’t not notice her, it seemed. Even while taking in the not-unattractive but not exactly handsome Mr. Benedict before him, he was acutely aware of Prudence. Her posture, her stiffness, the way she’d retreated back to her old self.
The one that wasn’t really her at all.
He knew that now.
But did anyone else?
11
Prudence glanced down the dining hall toward Mr. Benedict. He wasn’t awful, so that was something. She toyed with her spoon as a new course was laid before her, trying and failing to keep her gaze from darting over to the man who might possibly be her husband someday.
After an excruciatingly proper and awkward introduction, they had all retreated inside. It seemed there had been a miscommunication along the way. They’d long since intended to arrive today, and she was the only one who’d been unaware of the change in plans.
I was supposed to have another week! That was what kept rushing through her head all afternoon as she watched her husband-to-be and his uncle be escorted to their rooms, and then as she watched far more warily as Damian asked for a moment alone with her great aunt.
Let me deal with her. That was what he’d been saying all day, and now he had and she had no idea what he’d said or how her aunt had taken it.
She turned her gaze down toward the soup before her and wondered how on earth she was going to get through this meal without screaming.
First Damian and her aunt locked in a room together and then hushed conversations with her aunt and their guests.
And now this.
A tense meal at which everyone but her was allowed to speak.
She had the feeling that her life was happening without her. Her aunt, these gentlemen—even Damian—they were all planning and plotting her life as though she were a doll.
Aren’t you, though? Once again it was Louisa in her head.
She scowled at her soup. Why was it always Louisa taunting her. Not mean-spiritedly, just in that way that Louisa had of teasing. Always calling everyone out for their foibles and their facades.
Rather like Damian, come to think of it.
Prudence dipped her spoon into the soup and tried to take a sip, though the rich creamy texture turned her already queasy stomach.
Oddly enough, she missed Louisa right now. Though she might tease, she’d also break this unbearable tension if she were here. And Addie, if she were here, would be casting Prudence supportive, furtive smiles filled with sympathy and understanding. Miss Grayson—oh, her heart ached to think of how the ever-maternal and kind Miss Grayson would make her feel as though all would be well if she were here.
But it was Delilah she missed most of all. Dee would know what to do. She never took a back seat to her own life. Even now she was probably working with her dashing fiancé to orchestrate some sort of plan to take control of her father’s estate and get vengeance on her stepmother who’d wronged her.
She certainly wouldn’t be sipping soup in silence as the people around her planned the rest of her life.
Prudence dropped her soup spoon with a clatter. Not entirely on purpose, but it still served to break the unceasing silence that was fraught with tension. For her, at least.
All eyes were on her and her mouth went dry. Her aunt’s withering stare, in particular, seemed to be boring a hole into her skull. “Mr Benedict, I trust your sister is well,” she said.
She had no reason to believe his sister was well or otherwise. She’d only met the woman once and had barely exchanged three words. But it was the best she could come up with at the moment.
“Oh yes, quite well.”
Sir William launched into speech then and Prudence was finally able to relax a bit as he filled the air with boring talk of their other relations. His nephew, meanwhile, watched her with an intensity that was alarming.
“Isn’t it odd that Lord Damian has taken to tutoring young ladies in music?” he mused
